whose_son_am_i | Meme-shenanigans and Continuations.

It's a great illusion, but she couldn't forget the sloth shirt she left him with. She thinks she can see his mind a bit, but she only can gather that he's there.

Once that shirt is off her hands and lips are all over his bare skin, tracing kisses across his chest.

Oh that was lovely! Leaning his head against hers where he could, kisses pressed to her hair and his hands moving to caress her neck and scalp. Soft little sensual gasps or sighs escaped him. It was harder to focus...

And while she needn't fear him hurting her, her guard was down. Which would not do. There's a whisper from him "skjold", and then a sensation against her mind. As if he were cradling it, veiling and hiding her, his own bubble-like shielding. Deep green and black with golden highlights, ever shifting and changing. Showing her what a proper shield was, but also placing his own on her.

The sense of him shielding her is almost warm, it's like being wrapped up in cozy arms.

Christine lighly trails her nails down his back, just a little bit of a contrast from all of her gentle touches.

"It's beautiful." His shield, him, all of this wrapped up together.

He shivered in pleasure, a pleased hiss drawn from him. Tilting her head up, speaking against her lips once more. "You are." Agreeing with her, and he meant it. One hand stays in her hair, moving to her nape. Mouth open against her own, tongue seeking her own to dance with, tasting her, savoring... The other moves lower, caressing her own skin where he can, seeking just how her dress might be taken off.

If it was any other time, she would tease and say she doesn't believe him. But right now, she actually does believe it.

Her hands continue downward, giving his ass a firm squeeze. She has absolutely no desire to break the kiss, at least not yet, even if she does want to help him get her out of this dress.

It is a very nice ass, especially in sturdy canvas trousers. He has no desire to break the kiss either, finding the taste of her quite intoxicating in its own way. An idea occurs to him, and he chuckles against her mouth. Pulling back only enough to speak. "How much do you care about this dress?" Spoken in between kisses.

She would agree on that, she's squeezing a very nice ass.

"Not enough to stop you from absolutely ruining it." She can see where his thoughts are going there. And with how stong he is, her dress would provide very little resistance.

Give him a little credit--ripping it would be so cliche. Moving one hand, summoning one of his daggers, his other pulls it just slightly away from her skin. Enough to insert the blade, before slicing fluidly through the fabric. "Would it help if I promise to replace it?" She can feel the grin against her mouth.

There is a tiny rush of fear when he summons a dagger, a little danger adrenaline.

"I don't know if I trust you to pick out a dress." Having the fabric smoothly cut is honestly much sexier than ripping.

She trails her fingers through his hair again.

The dagger is vanished just as easily, and that hand moves to brush her cheek. "Try me." Before he's moving to trail along her throat with his fingers. Down along her collarbone, the center of her breasts, along her stomach and hips, and down one leg. It means he needs to move, but there's magic in the touch.

True-magic invoked beyond just basic illusion, changing her outfit entirely. There's jewels on her wrist and at her throat, a deep emerald green gown flowing over her body, and heels in black and gold with a faint feathery design. Sitting on the bed not far, with a smug grin, Loki waits for her reaction.

Edited (html fail) 2021-08-17 20:33 (UTC)

She's very much enjoying that trail of his hand and the slight tingle of magic it leaves behind. But too quickly he's gone, and she's dressed again.

She looks down at the gown, at the shoes, touches the jewels at her throat.

"You might have better taste in dresses than expected."

She sits up feeling the way the fabric skims her skin.

"It is a gown I would not mar by removing you from it quickly." Loki confirmed, reaching for her hand and once more kissing it. "Although right now, I'd rather you were in nothing--you do look beautiful." He was honestly pleased and surprised by how well the deep green and gold worked with her coloring.

She looked like a proper princess. ~~Now where had that thought come from, he wondered.~~

"Are you going to need to remove it slowly then? Or did you change your mind about being in my bed?"

She has a similarly pale complexion so it isn't a surprise that the emeralds he favors would look good on her as well.

Christine finds she likes the idea of slowing down a hint, just in case he leaves tomorrow and never returns. She will have a perfect night to hold close.

"I certainly won't be cutting it off of you." No mind-changing here, as Loki moved to come kneel by her. Moving to find the fastenings in back--tiny buttons that clever fingers made quick work of. Her turn as well, as he leaned in to kiss along her throat and neck.

Whispering in her ear "Sjelen din skinner som en stjerne." Voice low, but he was not lying.

She does hate not knowing what he's saying, but it sounds complimentary. She tilts her head to give him more of her neck to kiss.

"Loki" she sighs, it almost sounds a bit like worship. Surely a god would appreciate that.

Carefully, the bodice is unfastened enough that she can pull her arms free, that it it can slip down her hips if she moves right. Which he is more than happy to help her do. "Say it again." No nudges or suggestions, just a whisper against her skin, before kissing her pulse-point. A soft demand, but not a true order.

She slips her arms out and shifts so the dress can slip down her hips as well.

Her arms wrap around him, smoothing over cool skin.

"Loki." She whispers without hesitation.

Moving with her, one arm wrapping around her and holding her closer. Skin-to-skin, while the other hand helped pull the dress off of her more fully. Then tossed it somewhere in the room.

"Again." Nipping her pulse-point on her neck. Free hand now moving to trace up along her arm and skin, along her side, exploring bared flesh.

"Loki" it's more of a gasp that goes along with that little nip.

She's tracing down to the waistband of his pants, touching along his hip. He's cool when he presses against and she rather likes the sensation.

More like a slightly cooler human, but nothing that would mark him as too different. There's no more demands, as Loki focuses instead on shifting slightly down her body. Mouth against her collarbone, bearing them back down to the bed gently, one arm around her still to keep her close. His free hand trails along her hip and thigh, before back up to tease along her ribs.

As a doctor who touches people all day, the temperature difference is probably more noticeable.

She practically shivers as his hand trails down her body. She wraps a leg around his hip, drawing him closer to the pooling heat at her core.

"You do look very nice without a shirt on." As a way of admitting what he already knew about her checking him out earlier.

"I doubt you want me only shirtless, Sweetling." Murmured against her skin, lips skimming the top of her breasts. When she wraps her leg around him he shifts as well, moving to settle against her. Free-hand having played along her ribs enough, fingers move to start caressing the skin of her breast. Teasing, testing, searching out reactions with mouth and fingers.

"No, but I thought I'd compliment the view."

Her nipples draw into peaks as his fingers near, the light touch almost bordering on being ticklish. She had initially expected this to be almost frenzied, getting down to business as quick as possible, but the pace to a slower turn and she's able to savor every bit of it.

While not frenzied, there was no less heat. Loki didn't respond with words, just a noise of assent. Busy exploring her skin with his mouth and fingers. Affectionate, seeking out what drew out more of those pleased little sighs, gasps, and whines. Shifting his body slightly, hips pressing into her own. Being sure she knew he was interested.

That press of hips will earn him a little moan, it is satisfying to feel that he's responding just as strongly as she is.

Her hips press up against his, desperate for a bit of friction and to hopefully hear him moan.

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